


I have the right to destroy myself (I would die over and over for you)

by chaenniedyou



Category: BLACKPINK (Band)
Genre: Angst, F/F, Supernatural Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-12
Updated: 2018-10-23
Packaged: 2019-05-21 09:14:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 19,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14912603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chaenniedyou/pseuds/chaenniedyou
Summary: It was an absurd rumor, one that obviously was made up by a child's mind, but it spread like wildfire throughout the elementary school and stuck like gum to a shoe: Anyone who made friends with the quiet Korean girl Roseanne Park would die.orEverybody loved Park Chaeyoung (because who didn't?), but there was a time in her life when people avoided her like the plague.





	1. D-0

**Author's Note:**

> I apologize in advance for how dragging and sad this is going to be. I was in one of those moods, I guess, and I had to get this out somehow.
> 
> The comeback at the end of this week gives me happy feelings though.

The first time it happened, you didn't understand. 

How could you though, when you were only two years old and couldn't read the numbers hanging ominously over your aunt's head, or even know that the fiery, angry color the said dates were emblazoned in was called "red"?

All you knew was that, ever since then, you would see different dates floating on the exact same spot on everyone's head every time you looked up past their eyes, as though an invisible hand was writing the numbers with a thin, wispy finger. Later, you found yourself figuring out that the date format was MM/DD/YY, judging from the six-digit combination, and judging from the date that your aunt died of a heart attack. 

You started to care about those numbers when you met your first friend in elementary school. To anyone else, it was the typical shy-girl-talks-to-shy-boy-one-fine-day-in-the-school-playground trope. And that would have easily been the case, if it weren't for the dates on top of his head telling you that he was going to die on the same date, three years later. Maybe that was the real reason you made friends with Elliot. Maybe your childlike innocence and desire to do good believed you could save him. 

Not being able to do anything except watch him cough up blood one moment, and then simply disappear from school a mere few days after, might have qualified as your first heartbreak. You thought as much when you spent nights falling asleep with tears spilling on to your pink pillow. 

No one batted an eye after Elliot (because the world was just cold that way), but a rumor had formed after another one of your friends, this time a little girl with pigtails and round eyes named Isabelle, was bitten by a poisonous snake in the middle of your fourth grade. 

It was an absurd rumor, one that obviously was made up by a child's mind, but it spread like wildfire throughout the elementary school and stuck like gum to a shoe: Anyone who made friends with the quiet Korean girl Roseanne Park would die. 

You wondered why you even hoped you could help Isabelle when you couldn't help Elliot, but then again, your pure—albeit twice broken—heart also wondered why you shouldn't have. Even if only for a little while. 

Still, you decided it was better that, after Isabelle, you didn't make friends with anyone with a close date of death on his head. Because of all the whispering and the panicked looks from students who caught your eye in the hallways, though, you ended up never really befriending anyone at all. 

But that was fine. You couldn't get your heart broken if you didn't have anyone to break your heart over, right? 

Eventually, you took to singing to yourself, especially on days when the loneliness pierced you just a little too deeply. However lethal and death-bringing everyone thought your hands were, no one could ever say the same about your sweet, enchanting voice. In fact, your singing voice seemed to have an effect similar to that of a siren song: People became inexplicably drawn to you when you sang, and some would even go as far as to smile at you, looking as though they almost wanted to be your friend. 

Almost. 

Come middle school, the rumors slowly, very slowly started to die down, and your schoolmates started outgrowing it like they outgrew their old clothes and fashion trends. Like you, they wanted to be a new and improved version of themselves. Improvements which included not being gullible enough to believe in baseless gossip. 

You had your share of almost-friends. Including, surprisingly enough, the most popular girl in your school. 

For the third time in your life, you felt a painful, twisting sensation in your chest when you and this girl exchanged a few words in the halls before third period. Partly because you thought she was the most beautiful girl you'd ever seen, and partly because you were feeling something fluttering wildly in the pit of your stomach a few seconds later. 

But mostly because you saw the date for the very next day written in an angry red color over her head. 

"Hey, so, I heard it's your birthday today, Rosie—" the shorter girl, Melissa, said slowly, like she was testing your name with her tongue. Looking unsure, she hastily added, "Do you mind if I call you Rosie?" You shook your head with a small smile. Reassured, she grinned back, a light blush creeping on her cheeks. "Right, then. Well, I just wanted to wish you a happy birthday, Rosie." 

You tried hard to take your gaze away from the numbers, tears starting to make their way out of your eyes. Why did all the ones who were good to you have to be the ones who went first?

"Oh, don't cry," she whispered, gently laying a hand on your forearm, thinking you were crying for a different reason. 

The emotions swirling inside you—anger, grief, helplessness, and pain, so much pain—were too much for your thirteen year old self to bear right then. And so, not caring about what would inevitably happen afterward, you did something that was sure to spark the rumors about you yet again. 

You shuffled forward and hugged her tightly, biting down on your lip hard as you tried your best not to end up a sobbing mess on her shoulder. 

"Thank you," were the first and last words she would ever hear from you. 

Sure enough, the very next day, you could hear the whispering in the hallways ring louder and louder in your ears, deafening, even as you kept your head down and avoided eye contact. 

"I'm telling you, she's cursed!" 

"She's killed three people already, if you count Melissa—" 

"That's crazy, she hasn't killed anyone."

"Well maybe not directly! You're safe as long as you don't touch her." 

When it got to a point that even some of your teachers were starting to subtly avoid you, you felt that you couldn't handle another day in that school. 

Your father may have thought as much when, one morning at the dining table, he offhandedly mentioned something about an audition in Sydney being held by a Korean entertainment agency. 

As he talked, you realized that you never once thought about telling your parents and your older sister—or anyone else for that matter—about the numbers you saw on top of every head except your own. Yet somehow, they, especially your father, seemed to sense your unhappiness. Maybe he was giving you a way out. 

Maybe, as you nodded absentmindedly at his words, you were all too eager to grab that way out and cling to it with everything you had left. 

\-----

The best thing about your new friend Lalisa Manoban, you thought, was not that she was almost as tall as you were, or that she had a pretty face shape, or that she never hesitated to talk your ears off even if you barely knew each other, and even if she was still stumbling in her use of the Korean language—although you did find all these things endearing from the first time you met her, inside an elevator at YG Entertainment in Seoul. 

The best thing about Lisa, you thought, was that the date floating above her head was very, very far into the future. 

"Hey Chaeng," she said one day, while you walked together to the dance class you shared, fingers intertwined. "You should really meet Jisoo unnie and Jennie unnie. I think you'd be great with them. They could use someone as quiet as you are to shame them for being so noisy."

You thought about this for a moment. "But you're noisy too, Lisa. I bet you're worse than both of them together."

"What? That's not true!" 

When you did meet Kim Jisoo in person later on, you were able to confirm that Lisa being the loudest was a fact. 

Being friends with your Jisoo unnie was as natural as the sun rising and setting—it was inevitable. You would have been devastated if you had to lose her too early. Thankfully, as with Lisa, you didn't have to worry about that. You remembered being mildly concerned about the way she quirked one eyebrow in fascination when she caught your eyes staring at what looked like her forehead one day, but that was as far as it got. 

You never noticed how she started observing you more closely every day after that. 

"Jisoo unnie, is Jennie unnie free today?" Lisa asked the older girl on the third day that she, you and Jisoo started sitting together for lunch. 

Jisoo shook her head as she took a bite out of her sandwich. After chewing thoughtfully, she answered, "I'm not sure if they've finished filming that music video with her and G-Dragon sunbaenim yet."

"Wow," was all you could say to that, too amazed that this Jennie person was hand-picked to feature in a music video of G-Dragon, no less. Even in Australia, you recalled, his name was a familiar one. 

Lisa appeared to be too preoccupied to share those feelings, though. With a frown, she muttered, "I was hoping Chae would be able to meet everyone by now." 

"Aish, stop stressing, Lalisa," Jisoo scolded. She reached for your hand under the table and gave you a reassuring smile. Using a gentler tone of voice, she added, "Chaeyoung will see her soon enough." 

See her you did, but at one point in your life you wished you never had. 

Not because you found Kim Jennie intimidating despite being shorter than you were, or because she looked at you with narrowed eyes when she first made eye contact with you, or even because she gave you nothing more than a half-smile when you walked by her once on the way to your Japanese class. 

You wished you had never seen her, but the truth was, you only wished you had never seen the date of death floating over her head in that unmistakable angry red color. 

You remembered the unspoken rule you had made for yourself years before, the one where you weren't supposed to make friends with anyone dying in ten years or less. Right then, Jennie had six, but in the end, even with all the deaths you always saw were coming, you didn't have the heart to try and dislike her once you met officially. 

Even if she was intimidating at first. 

"Rosieeeeee," you heard a drawn-out whine from beside you, snapping you out of your thoughts and bringing you back to the present. "What are you thinking about?" 

A little smile started to tug at the corners of your lips as you felt the living room sofa dip a little, and turned to face Jennie. You reminded yourself to always look at her eyes, and not the top of her head. "Memories from before we debuted, mostly. Like that time I thought you were the scariest person ever." 

"Really?" she asked, and you could see the beginnings of a cute pout forming on her bottom lip. "You thought I was scary?" 

You couldn't help but laugh at how far off the mark your first impression of her was. You shook your head. "You do know what an RBF is, don't you, unnie?" 

"I do not have a resting bitch face!" Jennie retorted, placing a hand over her chest as if offended by your remark. 

You rolled your eyes, the smile growing on your face, and there may or may not have been a light blush on your cheeks. "Oh, right, because your B face never actually rests. I'm sorry I got it wrong." 

"Oh shut up," she said half-heartedly. "I can't believe you're actually censoring yourself from saying 'bitch'." 

You could only push her shoulder lightly in response. Both of you fell silent for a few minutes as your laughter started to die down. 

"Why are you out here, though? Couldn't sleep?" 

You nodded. "I think I need to bug my human pillow again." 

"I've always wondered how you could ever consider Lisa a pillow," Jennie said, and if you weren't too caught up with trying not to look past her eyes, you would have heard the resentment in her voice. "She's so thin."

"I don't know," you shrugged. "I just fall asleep more easily beside her. Maybe because she's always asleep first?" 

The pout on the other girl's face made itself fully known. You always got flustered whenever she appeared cute for you on purpose, and this was one of those times. 

"Make me your human pillow for tonight instead." 

"H-Huh? I..." You tried to think of a response, but Jennie's words caught you off-guard. 

"What? You don't want to?" 

"It's n-not that, it's just—I probably would end up not getting any sleep." 

"Oh." The pout on Jennie's face turned into a frown. "Because you still think I'm scary? Even after all these years?" 

_Because I'll keep getting reminded how much time you have left. You're not scary, but knowing I'm losing you so soon is._

"No, because we'll both have trouble falling asleep and end up talking until morning. Like now." 

"Fine," she conceded with a huff. "You've been out here a lot lately, though. Is there something bothering you?" You felt her eyes scanning your face, as though she might find answers if she did. "Is that why you're having trouble sleeping?" 

"Maybe," you muttered, avoiding her stare. Before Jennie could say anything in response, you took a deep breath and looked up, using all your willpower to see only her face and not the numbers on top of her head. "Unnie, can you promise me something?" 

"Anything," she said softly, and if you weren't so torn up inside thinking about how much time she had left, you might have noticed her inching closer to you, a cautious hand slowly placing itself on one of your own. 

"Please take care of yourself," you said simply, not wanting to give anything else away. 

"I promise I will," she paused. "You've been saying that a lot lately, too. Is there something you're not telling me?" 

 _A lot_ , you thought. "No, nothing, unnie," you said. 

The older girl let out an exasperated sigh. "Fine. I get it. There are some things you'll only talk to Lisa about but not to me or Jisoo unnie." She narrowed her eyes at you, in as much as she did the first time that you made eye contact when you were trainees. By then, you knew what that look meant. 

"So I'll wait for you to tell me when you're ready, okay? But you better not take too long. I'm not sure how long I can wait." 

You felt your heart sink right then, because you knew exactly how long she had to wait before she no longer could. 

"I know."

\-----

You remembered the first time you talked to anyone other than yourself about your "ability" to see death dates, for lack of a better word—besides "curse", because ninety-nine percent of the time, that was how you felt. Cursed. 

It was the day after CEO Yang formally announced that you, Lisa, Jisoo and Jennie were finally scheduled to debut as YG's new girl group Blackpink. At first, you were so happy, ecstatic even, that you were going to be doing something you were passionate about, together with three other people who you loved with all your heart, and there could be nothing better than that.

Then it all came crashing down in your head the moment you thought about dates. 

Just when you thought the universe couldn't have been more cruel to you by giving you an ability you never wanted, you realized that the month and date of your debut was the same date you kept seeing on top of Kim Jennie's head. 

The universe had decided she was going to die on the same month and date, two years later. 

Four years had flown by all too quickly. You were so busy frantically trying not to be close to Jennie after both of you were introduced, only to give in not too long after that when you found that she wasn't actually as unfriendly as you had first thought. Then, as you spent more and more time together, you found yourself liking her too much, and the thought of death claiming her so soon was even more unbearable than it already was. 

How you managed to keep yourself together until then, with all those thoughts in your mind, was a question you didn't know the answer to, but at that very moment, you found yourself finally unraveling. 

"Hey, Chaeng, I have some snacks, you want—" 

You looked up at the source of the voice just as the first few tears started to fall down your cheeks. Lisa froze at the sight, her hand still on the doorknob on the outside of your room. 

She quickly closed the door behind her after hearing a small whimper escape your lips. She made her way to the middle of your bed, where you were sitting, and in a matter of seconds, she had you in her arms. She held you steadily as you trembled, unable to hold back the sobs wracking your body. "Hey, hey, it's okay. It's okay." 

Right then, you realized you were so tired of holding everything inside of you for so long. If there was another soul you could share the burden with, you believed it could be Lisa. 

So you did. While she rocked you gently that night, and while you held on to her so tightly, as if she would evaporate into thin air the moment you let go, you told her about your curse, about your aunt, about Elliot, about Isabelle and Melissa, about how you came to Seoul trying to get away from those memories, about how you thought you might just die along with Jennie because you didn't know if your heart could take witnessing yet another death of someone you cared about. 

"You should've told me earlier, Chaeng," you heard her whisper, stroking the back of your head with one hand. "It must've been so hard keeping it to yourself all this time." 

"I didn't—didn't think you would believe me," you answered, your voice muffled against her shirt. "That anyone would believe me." 

"Well, for the record," she said firmly, "I do."

Days and days after that were spent with both of you searching the internet for possible answers, or people who might have had the same ability as you did. Since your debut was coming, the only time you could do your research was after practices, which meant several sleepless nights and fruitless searches. 

You often found yourself in Lisa's room more than your own, and eventually, you would cuddle up next to her—she always fell asleep first, her phone discarded beside her—and try to go to sleep yourself. 

Sometimes, you tried to figure out what Jennie's cause of death would be. Surprisingly, Lisa didn't seem too fazed to talk about something that would have been very uncomfortable to any other person. 

"I think we can cross 'terminal illness' off the list," she said one night. "We've all been getting regular check-ups, so if there was something, we would've known by now."

You were on her bed, your side turned to face her, as she lay on her back, staring at the ceiling. "How else can someone die?" you thought out loud, but not actually wanting to know. 

Lisa hesitated. "I kind of have a guess, if you'll hear me out." 

You nodded. She briefly tilted her head towards you, then swallowed before looking upwards once more.

"I don't think Jennie unnie's date of death being the same date as the anniversary of our debut is a coincidence. So I'm thinking that it could be an accident, or a murder." 

You were never able to get those words out of your head since then. Accident, murder. It could only be one or the other. 

If you weren't so caught up trying to play psychic-slash-detective to figure out your unnie's future cause of death, you might have noticed how much the youngest member of your group started to look forward to your nightly visits to her room. (Although at first, Lisa felt a little uneasy with the fact that your main point of conversation was always death, she couldn't deny that she was willing to talk with you about virtually anything just for the sake of having you all to herself for a little while.) You might have noticed that she was a bit too fervent in helping you with your internet searches, even with little to no sleep; or you might have noticed her random bursts of frustration that came from not being able to protest whenever any of the other members had a little too much skinship with you (so she often overcompensated by becoming the touchiest of them all). 

Because of how tired you were most nights, you never saw that, a few hours after you'd fall asleep on her bed, Lisa would stir, sit up, and brush her fingers through your hair, a small frown ever present on her lips, and a bittersweet feeling ever present somewhere inside her chest. 

\-----

On one of the few nights that you couldn't stay with Lisa (At the time she was still in Japan, shooting for a magazine.), it was Jisoo who found you in the living room, sitting in front of a muted television, your eyes on the screen but your mind somewhere else entirely. 

Wordlessly, the older girl went to the kitchen and then came back to sit next to you, handing you a glass of water. You turned to her with a weak smile. "Thank you, unnie." 

"You can thank me after you tell me what's on your mind this time," she said bluntly, placing the book she'd been holding on to her lap. You wondered why she said the words "this time", before you remembered that she had caught you multiple times doing the same thing you were doing (or not doing) at that moment, and each time, you'd have the same response:

"It's nothing, really." 

You loved Jisoo, you really did, but you knew that she was closest with Jennie among any of you, and even if you trusted her to keep a secret, given its gravity, you weren't sure if she would be able to keep yours. 

Your gaze drifted down to the book. In an attempt to divert Jisoo's attention, you asked what it was about.

"It's about someone who wants to be a writer," she answered, "but he also stalks people who don't have anything to look forward to in life. Then when he thinks it's the right time, he offers to help them kill themselves."

"What does he get out of it, though?" 

"He records the stories of his victims in a book and plans to submit it to publishers when he's finished." 

"Does he ever get to do it?" 

Jisoo shrugged. "I don't know. I haven't gotten to that part yet." 

 _Me neither_ , you thought. You hadn't gotten to the part where you figured out an ending to your story that didn't involve Kim Jennie dying. 

"I think it's interesting though," she said, almost to herself. 

"What is?" 

"That there are people who want so badly to live while they're dying, and on the other hand, there are also people who want so badly to die when they're living." 

For all the silliness and childish behavior she never seemed to run out of, Jisoo was truly wise beyond her years. You could only stare at the closed book, trying hard to wrap your head around what she had just said. 

"Would it be fair if they could just trade places?" you wondered out loud. 

Jisoo regarded your words thoughtfully, turning them over in her head. "What if they change their minds?" 

"But what if they don't?" you answered absentmindedly, your mind still repeating the phrase "trade places" in a seemingly endless loop. 

"Chaeyoung," she said, a serious tone in her voice. "What are you thinking?" 

 _Everything_. "Nothing," you said automatically. "I think I'll try and go back to sleep, unnie." 

"Wait," you heard her say behind you as you stood up. "Lisa isn't here tonight..."

Your eyes met her dark brown ones, and if you weren't so stuck inside your own thoughts about the possibility of saving your other unnie's life, you might have seen the yearning that this unnie had to be close to you that night. You might have noticed how she hesitated, wanting so much to tell you to stay with her, if only for that moment, but being unable to get the words out of her mouth. 

"I... I hope you sleep well, Chaeyoung-ah," was all she could say instead, her eyes shining with an emotion you couldn't quite place.

"You too, unnie," you replied, your smile never making it to your eyes. 

\-----

As the second anniversary of Blackpink's debut drew ever closer, it gradually became clear to you what you had to do. 

"No! I won't let you!" was the first thing that Lisa whisper-shouted when you told her. She started pacing around the inside of her room, agitatedly running a hand through her hair. "You can't, Chaeng."

"I'm not asking for your permission," you said, a little more sharply than you intended. "I'm tired of just watching people die. If I can do something to prevent one death, I will." 

"By doing what? Offering yourself as a tribute? This isn't the Hunger Games," she snapped, her breaths becoming faster and shallower as she continued her pacing. "What makes you so sure that's even going to work? What if Jennie unnie dies anyway?" 

"I'm not. I'm not sure at all. But I have to try." 

Lisa's eyes were blazing when they met yours. It was rare, you thought, to see your group's maknae getting genuinely angry at you, of all people. But at that moment, you knew you were right, somehow, and no amount of anger from anyone was going to stop you. 

"I've been doing some research on my own," you continued. "I don't know what the odds are—" Actually you did, and they were very, very slim, but you didn't need Lisa to know that— "but agents of death like, say, the grim reaper, or the angel of death, would sometimes concede to an exchange. It doesn't matter who dies on a certain day, as long as someone does. To fill the numbers." 

"Then—Then let someone else save her!" she said hotly, desperation evident in the way her voice was shaking. 

"Lisa, there's no one else," you explained, your voice uncharacteristically even, sounding as if you were explaining a recipe for kimchi stew instead of your own death. "And even if you wanted to, you can't, either. Your date of death has already been decided. But since I can never see any dates on top of my head, mine probably hasn't yet." 

The younger girl froze at that, and you saw her gaze soften. She stood on the side of her bed where you were sitting, so that she was towering in front of you. 

"Please, Chaeyoung," she pleaded, two trembling hands reaching out to cup your cheeks. "Please don't do it. I can't lose you." 

"But you can lose Jennie unnie?"

"I—I don't know, Chae. I don't know." You felt her hands leave your face as she swiped the tears that were spilling down her own. "I don't know anymore." 

"I'm sorry, Lisa," you said softly, standing up and wrapping your arms around her shoulders. "I didn't tell you this so you could talk me out of it. I've already decided. There's no other way."

"Why... Why do you even want to save her so badly?" 

"Because she has so much to live for. All of you do." 

"And you don't?" 

All you could do was give her a sad smile. "I'd never be able to forgive myself if Jennie unnie dies before I do." 

"And you think I would forgive you if you died before I did?" Lisa retorted, staring at you determinedly. "You're so oblivious, Chae," she muttered as an afterthought. 

"What?"

"How can you not see how everyone loves you?" She let out a bitter laugh. "How can you not see that no one in this house wants to be just your friend, or your unnie, anymore?" 

"What are you talking about, Lisa?" you asked, a mix of dread and guilt starting to seep into you from her words. 

"Jennie unnie, Jisoo unnie and I, we—we love you," she admitted, unable to keep her thoughts to herself any longer. 

"I know you do," you answered, like it was obvious. (Because, really, it was.) "And I love you all, too." 

She sighed, shoulders slumping against your arms. "No, there's only one of us you love. And you're willing to freaking die for her." 

"I would do it for any of you," you said without hesitation, tears starting to pool in your eyes. "You know that, right?" 

"I know, Chaeng. You're too selfless like that. It's just that you're extra selfless now, if that's even possible, because it's _her_." 

You looked away, letting your arms fall to your sides. 

"I can't be like you, though," Lisa went on, her voice faltering, and you could sense an intense gaze on you as she spoke. "I want to be selfish, even for just a second." 

A thumb and forefinger tilted your chin to face her, and before you could understand what was happening, you felt a pair of soft lips gently making contact with yours. 

You shut your eyes tightly and, as she continued to kiss you, you wished with all your heart that you could love Lisa the way she wanted you to right then. 

She was right, your thoughts told you, You really were too selfless. 

\-----

You found yourself spending the next few days filling your sketchbook with faces and sceneries already imprinted on to your mind. 

Sketching kept you from being selfish. It kept you from thinking twice about what you'd already set your mind on doing.  

You used sketching as an excuse to avoid Lisa. It was enough that she kept stealing glances at you whenever she could, her eyes pleading, always pleading, for you to change your decision. 

While Jisoo was concerned about the maknae line not speaking to each other ("Chaeyoung-ah, are you and Lisa fighting?" she asked worriedly, to which you said cryptically, "Just give us a few more days, unnie, it'll be over soon."), Jennie appeared to be more than a little curious about your sketches. ("Are you ever going to let anyone see what you've made?" she said, to which you answered, with a sad smile, "You'll get to see them someday.") 

You knew you would be lying, though, if you said sketching kept you from being scared. You were so, so scared your plan wouldn't work.

Yet you were also scared that it would. 

Sketching didn't keep you from your fears, but at least it kept you busy whenever the myriad of your comeback promotions didn't. 

Three days before the eighth of August and you were starting to lose your nerve. It was taking all of your remaining strength not to give in to Lisa's silent pleas. You were used to people dying around you with your knowledge, weren't you? Why should Kim Jennie be any different? 

You took a deep, shaky breath as you made your way to the kitchen to get a glass of water. Your apprehension was starting to show in the way the glass shook in your trembling hands. You had to put it on the sink so you could steady yourself, leaning much of your lower body forward against the counter.

This was the sight that Jennie and Jisoo witnessed as you heard their voices float closer to where you were. They appeared to have been in deep conversation with each other before they both saw you. 

Your head was bowed, so you could only tell that Jisoo approached you first by the sound of her voice. "Chaeng, are you okay?" 

Your smile was automatic, of course. "I'm fine, unnie, I was just thirsty." 

"Here," she said, taking the glass off the sink and filling it with water from the faucet before taking your hand and pushing it towards you. 

Thankfully, your hands weren't shaking this time, but as you gulped down the water, you noticed two pairs of eyes on you. Remembering Lisa's words from the last time you properly spoke, you wondered if both of your unnies had always felt what they did towards you, and you were in fact, just too oblivious to notice. More than that, you wondered why it had to be you, because you couldn't for the life of you figure out what made you so special. 

"Why are you both looking at me like that?" 

They seemed to snap out of their own separate worlds upon hearing you address them, both mumbling incoherent excuses in an attempt to hide their embarrassment. Then the two older girls turned to each other, seemingly having a silent conversation, judging from the glares they were shooting each other. 

"Jisoo unnie," you said, deciding to try and get past the awkwardness of the situation. "Did you ever get to finish that book?" 

You saw her face light up at the question, while Jennie seemed defeated at the fact that you addressed Jisoo and not her. "I did." 

"Did the writer in the story ever get what he wanted?" 

"No, I don't think he did, even if the narrative tries to convince you otherwise."

"Oh," you breathed out, a sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach. You had to remind yourself that your story didn't have to end the same way as Jisoo's book.

"Well, I forgot what I came here for," Jennie said abruptly, clearing her throat. She started to walk away, but paused and turned her head to the side. "Are you coming, too, Jisoo unnie? Chae?" 

Jisoo hummed in reply, while you nodded your head. 

"Good night unnie," you said upon reaching Jisoo's room, briefly brushing your hand down her upper arm. She muttered a soft "good night, girls" with the ghost of a smile as she turned the doorknob, and this time you didn't fail to notice the heat starting to creep up her cheeks before her back faced you. 

You heard a sigh coming from beside you. "Good night, Rosie," Jennie said, moving towards her own room. 

There was really no need to give yourself any more pain, you thought, as you watched her open her door. Even then, your hand shot up and grasped at Jennie's sleeve before you could stop yourself. 

"Wait." 

The older girl flinched, her hand hovering over the doorknob. It took her a few seconds to turn to you with a questioning look. 

"Be my human pillow tonight, unnie," you told her, walking to her bedroom door and opening it with an uncharacteristic boldness. 

Behind you, Jennie was trying hard to keep herself from becoming a stuttering mess. "Okay, but what about Lisa?" 

You shrugged, then climbed on to one side of Jennie's bed as if you owned it. "I don't expect to get much sleep tonight," you said nonchalantly. 

Jennie stood over you, her eyebrows shooting up and her eyes widening in shock. That was when you realized how wrong your words just sounded. 

"N-no, oh my God, I didn't mean it that way!" You covered your face with your hands, mortified. You heard a soft giggle and felt the bed shift beside you. 

"You're so cute, Rosie," Jennie mumbled, peeling your hands from your face and then holding on to them with her own. 

You noticed her lingering stare, her pink cheeks, her hands which were intertwined with yours, and all you could think about was how unfair it was that only one of you could go on living after the eighth of August. 

\-----

It wasn't nearly as dramatic as all the other possible scenarios you'd been turning over in your head for the past few years.

All you knew was that, when the time came, you were ready. Accident or murder, it could only be one or the other. Either way, fate appeared intrigued by your sacrifice, and was all too happy to make things easier for you. 

There was pain, so much pain, when it happened, but when you fought hard to bring your gaze towards the top of Jennie's head, and you saw the dates shift before your tearful eyes, you were able to muster a weak smile. There was no need for you to fight anymore. 

"It w-worked... Jen," you rasped, blood dripping slowly from the corner of your mouth. 

"Rosie," she sobbed. "You lied to me." 

"I'm sor—ry." 

"I love you." 

"I know." 

She could only watch the smile freeze on your lips, and the life fade from your glassy eyes. 

\-----

Chaeyoung's sketchbook was in the same place she'd left it. 

None of the other members could bear to even open her bedroom door for weeks. Chaeyoung's parents and sister were in the country for the funeral, of course, but they hadn't come to take any of her belongings yet. 

Maybe they all wanted to think that the girl was merely on vacation, and if they waited patiently, they would get to see her when she returned. (She'd probably get a little upset if she found out that people had been moving her stuff around.)

Even if, under all the layers of denial, they knew she never would. 

\-----

Lisa saw her everywhere. 

On the counter, hunched over the first thing she'd picked out from their fridge. On her favorite spot on the sofa, either playing with her phone or watching some drama or other on television. In the bathroom, brushing her teeth and making way for Lisa to use the sink too.

In Lisa's own bedroom, where the side Chaeyoung had often slept in still smelled very much like her, and imagining her lying next to the younger girl was enough for her to break into tears. 

She saw Chaeyoung in her dreams, since she could no longer do so with her eyes.

There was one vivid dream in particular, where, without a word at first, Chaeyoung all but pushed a familiar object on to Lisa's hands, looking expectant. 

_"Show this to everyone, okay? Promise me."_

Which was how, after waking up in the middle of the night thinking, hoping that Chaeyoung would be lying next to her (and the realization that she would never be hitting her yet again), the maknae found herself plodding towards the room she had been avoiding for almost a month. 

If she hadn't been so focused on searching for the one thing she came for, she might have paused and thought about how untouched the place was, how unreal it seemed that the room's owner was never coming back. 

Chaeyoung's sketchbook was in the same place she'd left it. Lisa felt like an intruder, leafing through something that the older girl never usually let anyone see. 

The random doodles and sceneries on the first few pages eventually gave way to more detailed drawings of her family, and various concert venues they had perfomed in, the perspective always being from the stage looking on to the audience. The faces and the lightsticks nearest the stage were given due attention by the artist, the rest appearing as a beautiful, pink ocean in the distance. 

Then, Lisa saw her own face, which looked back at her with a mischievous smile. It was very far from how she looked right then: exhausted, pale, frowning, dark shadows under her eyes. 

Her eyes wandered to some writing below the portrait. How she managed to read all of it while fresh tears clouded her vision, she didn't know.

"Thank you for being my first friend in Korea, Lalisa. You don't know how much you mean to me. Don't be sad, okay? I need you to be strong and take care of our unnies like you took care of me." 

_"Take care of our unnies," Chaeyoung had whispered, gently prying Lisa's hand away from hers and moving towards their manager, who was waiting at the entrance of their dorm._

_"Chae, please," Lisa begged for the last time, her voice wavering, knowing all too well that, once Chaeyoung went out the door that day, she wouldn't be coming back. "Please."_

_Chaeyoung turned her head briefly, her eyes glistening, lips curled up to give Lisa the last smile of hers she would ever see, and then without a word, continued walking._

Lisa sighed as the memory faded. _That was such a Chaeyoung thing to do,_ she thought. _If it was to help someone, she would_ _willingly walk towards certain death with a smile on her face._

\-----

Chaeyoung's sketch for Jisoo was of her, Jennie and Lisa, the arms of the oldest slung around the shoulders of the girls on either side of her, carefree expressions on all their faces. Leaves of red, orange, gold and brown were being whipped by the autumn winds around them. A note at the bottom of the page caught her eye. 

"Remember when I made you guys pose like this for me, unnie? The three of you being this happy together is what I would like the ending of my story to be. Please stay together and keep fighting." 

If Chaeyoung only knew, Jisoo thought, it was all her cute squeaks of "Fighting!", "You're so pretty, Jisoo unnie," and her random hugs, that picked the older girl up whenever she felt like letting go of everything she'd worked for (because, despite using her 4D personality to cope with hate comments and stressful schedules, she could feel herself reaching her limit more than a few times over the years). 

She didn't know how or where to get the strength from, but if Park Chaeyoung wanted her to make the other members happy, she would. 

If Chaeyoung only knew or asked, Jisoo would have done anything for her. 

\-----

The sight of Chaeyoung's closed sketchbook was enough to reduce Jennie to a crying mess yet again. 

Memories kept playing in Jennie's mind incessantly, like a video player that had a broken stop button. 

The one night Chaeyoung had invaded her room instead of Lisa's, the younger girl had asked, seemingly out of nowhere, if it were possible for someone to die in another person's place. 

_"I never thought about that before. I'm not sure it would work. I mean, doesn't the universe kill whoever it wants?" She paused. "But if it would work, though, would you do it?"_

_Chaeyoung shifted next to her on the bed and looked past Jennie's head. "Probably not. Because we'll all live to be old and wrinkly, so I won't have to worry about it."_

Three days after that, Chaeyoung and Jennie were in the backseat of a van, with their manager beside the driver. Jennie mentally ran through their tasks for the day, which included shooting for a CF and for a magazine. 

Then, there was a sharp screeching of tires against asphalt from a direction she couldn't determine, and before she could react, she found herself being shoved by Chaeyoung to the far right of the van, and Chaeyoung herself was violently pushed forward by the impact of being hit by another vehicle. 

_Jennie scrambled towards the younger girl, not caring about the shards of glass that were bloodying her forearms and knees. Not when there was a long rod-like piece of debris sticking out the center of Chaeyoung's chest, staining her white blouse with a dark red._

_"No, no! Rosie!"_

_"It w-worked... Jen."_

She'd lied. Of course Chaeyoung would've chosen to die in her place, if she could. 

It took both a somber Jisoo with a comforting hand on her shoulder, and an anxious Lisa, with one hand holding the pad, to get Jennie to finally open the book and reveal the drawing that was meant for her.

When she gathered enough strength to look at the sketch, she saw herself, eyes closed, grinning at the sky. She remembered that Chaeyoung had taken a photo that looked exactly like it, and told her it was her favorite.

"If it means that you get to experience more and more moments like this," the note below the drawing read, "when you can smile at life even if it becomes unfair, I would die over and over for you. You have so much to live for, unnie, and now you can live for me, too." 

Jisoo and Lisa huddled around Jennie as she held the sketchbook close to her chest and sniffled. 

"Aish, it's not enough that the chipmunk was such a crybaby," Jisoo spoke up, with a watery laugh. "She had to turn the rest of us into crybabies too." 

"This is probably her legacy," Lisa answered. "She must be proud." 

They all managed to let out a small chuckle despite themselves. 

It would take a while, Jennie thought, looking up at the ceiling, and trying to curl her lips upwards, but if Chaeyoung believed she could do it, that was all she needed to know. 

_See you later, Chaeng._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case you were wondering, the title of the book Jisoo was reading is "I Have The Right to Destroy Myself" by Kim Young-ha, hence the title of this story as well.
> 
> I struggled with Chaesoo here, for some reason, even if no one's asking. I'm sorryyy. 
> 
> I'll be in my grave now and will resurrect during the comeback. *flies away*


	2. D-3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, so I've decided to cut the alternate ending into two chapters because it was getting annoyingly dragging, I think. Hang tight for the actual ending, guys. Thank you for all your kind words and great feedback so far.

Tires screeching. Glass shattering. Smoke rising. Pedestrians screaming. And the bright, early noon sun, shining down the streets of Seoul, peering at the entire scene, unbothered by it all.

 _I take back what I thought earlier_ , I tell myself, as the excruciating pain from being stabbed through my chest muddles my already scattering thoughts, This could be a dramatic sort of death. Something straight out of one of those evening shows I would binge-watch when our group doesn't have any schedules—

"...No, no, no! Rosie! No!"

I try hard to lift my heavy eyelids, red already seeping through the corners of my vision. Only two people ever called me Rosie, and one of them was long gone. I chuckle inwardly, the blood trickling from the corner of my lip reminding me that it's only a matter of time before I would be gone, too.

At least—At least I would meet her soon, and I'd get to tell Melissa that this time, this time, I did something other than stand on the sidelines and watch another person die.

 _Jennie unnie isn't just another person, though,_ I mentally correct myself, feeling a sudden flood of relief temporarily ease the pain.

Moving my lips feels like trying to lift lead, and it's such a struggle to smile, but it's worth it. Jennie is alive.

"It w-worked... Jen," I croak out, my voice almost failing me.

She has scratches on her forearms and knees and is bleeding from small cuts, but the dates on top of her head changing to a day in the distant future tells me that all my years of worrying for her life are finally over.

"Rosie, you lied to me."

Then again, seeing Jennie break into sobs as she gently reaches for my cheek brings me a hurt that is much, much different from the one that's slowly dragging me farther from her and closer to death.

I feel the need to apologize, so I do. "I'm sor—ry."

"I love you," is all she says in return, her way of telling me she forgives me for hiding the truth.

It's too painful for me to tell her how much and how long I've loved her in return, too painful because it's too late, so instead I settle with, "I know."

And not a minute later, I find myself falling asleep without closing my eyes.

"Rosie..."

Please, just let me rest. It hurts.

"Rosie..."

Just let me go. Why won't you let me go?

"Chaeyoung-ah!"

My eyes snap open, and the sun's light is still a constant presence. Only this time, it looks like it's early in the morning, and I'm no longer inside a heavily damaged vehicle. The light filters through the pink curtains of my room instead of through shattered car windows.

I don't feel the cold sweat on the back of my neck, and I don't hear my quick, panting breaths, but I hear Jennie's voice clearly as she asks in English, "Rosie, are you okay?"

She helps me sit up, and immediately, my hand flies towards my chest, feeling for a wound that isn't there. "I—I think so."

"It sounds like you were having a nightmare," Jennie comments, concern evident in her tone. She sits on the edge of my bed, rubbing small circles on my back with her hand, and I feel my breathing gradually go back to normal. Or as normal as it can be, given the situation.

I look up at her and see 080818 hovering over her head, in that crimson writing I've come to hate over the years. _I'm still living the nightmare,_ I barely stop myself from saying.

Instead, I nod mutely, and to avoid any more questions, I clear my throat and ask one of my own. "What are you doing here, by the way, unnie?"

The rubbing on my back stops abruptly, and I'd be lying if I say I'm not even a little bothered by it. "Well, I, uh," Jennie starts, the thumbs of both her hands twiddling together, a nervous habit of hers. "I made breakfast. A-and you were the only one who wasn't awake yet, so I thought I'd come get you. Then I heard you say my name when I opened the door, and... y-yeah," she trails off.

"Oh. Thanks for waking me up. And I'm sorry for the trouble."

"It's okay, but... Aren't you ever going to tell me what's been bothering you for so long?" Her gaze looks gentle, but also seems a little sad. "To tell you the truth, I hate feeling like there's nothing I can do to help you."

After just waking up from such a vivid dream, I feel a weakness so crushing, that it takes the very last vestige of mental strength to stop myself from just giving in and telling Jennie that she's going to die in the next few days.

"You're helping me, though, unnie," I force myself to act cheerful, pretending that the prospect of food excites me right then as much as it usually does. "Your cooking is always good. One bite of anything you make and I'll forget all about any pesky nightmares in no time."

Her eyebrows meet, clearly unconvinced by my attempt at flattery, but she decides to drop the topic for the moment. She tugs at my hand, muttering a "Let's go, then," and the pink tinting her cheeks as she looks straight ahead tells me my flattery may have worked a little bit, after all.

\-----

To say that the silence between the four of us as we sit together that morning is uncomfortable would be an understatement.

Lisa has never stopped trying to talk to me, even though I'd started avoiding her since that moment when we'd kissed. Lately, the unnies seem at a loss at what to do to resolve a conflict that they could sense, but know nothing about.

Until, finally, Jisoo unnie gets fed up with the tension at all the unanswered questions between us, and slams her palm on the dining room table, visibly rattling the bowl in front of her and making all three of us straighten up in shock.

"If none of you are going to tell me or Jennie what in the world is going on, you better at least apologize to each other and stop this nonsense," she says sternly, eyes narrowed at both Lisa and I.

It's very few times like these when I suddenly remember that she's the oldest among all of us.

"I thought we were family," her voice wavers a little, the frustration in her eyes mellowing down to something closer to disappointment. "But if we can't even share our burdens with each other, I guess we can just call all this," she gestures with a wave of her hand at herself, and then at the three of us, "a strictly business relationship."

I feel a twinge of hurt inside me at hearing Jisoo's words. All this time, I'd been trying to keep my troubles to myself so I could spare my unnies from all the anxiety, fear and self-loathing I've been holding inside for most of my life. I'd been so dead set on doing this, I'd failed to realize I may have been hurting the very people I thought I'd been protecting.

Out of the corner of my eye, I can see Lisa opening her mouth, an apology forming on the tip of her tongue. But before she can say anything, I find myself beating her to it.

"I'm sorry, Lisa." _For involving you in all this, for making you go through this madness with me, for leaving you to fight with your thoughts when you always try not to leave me with mine._ "For everything."

She's clearly taken aback, not expecting me to apologize to her. She stares at me from across the table, a frown on her lips. "But it's my fault. You didn't do anything, Chaeng," she answers, confused.

I stare back, and the tears fall from my eyes before I notice they were even forming. "You're right. I haven't done anything. Not a single thing. And maybe that's what I'm sorry for the most."

As expected, Jennie and Jisoo gape at us, dumbfounded at the cryptic conversation. The silence at this moment is even more stifling than the one from a while ago, and right then, I want—need—nothing more than to get away from it.

So I stand up, wipe my cheeks, and quietly thank Jennie unnie for the food before I retreat to my room, trading the suffocating silence in the dining room for the never-ending, equally suffocating noises in my mind.

\-----

My fingertips furiously rub against the page of my open sketchbook as I sit, hunched over my desk, trying to spread a chaotic flurry of oil pastel colors on to the paper.

Unfortunately, no matter how focused I've been with rubbing my fingers raw for the last couple of hours, the walls of our shared dorm are not thick enough to keep me from hearing the voices that start to sharply rise in volume outside my room.

"...just tell us what you're fighting about, Lalisa!" I hear Jisoo say first.

"We're not..."

"Then what's going on?" I flinch at Jennie's broken tone, the fingertips of my left hand hovering over my unfinished drawing.

Lisa's voice is much more subdued than the two others', and I have to strain my ears to hear some of what she's saying. "...thing's going on, unnie."

Jisoo still sounds the same as earlier today, seemingly gathering fire the more she speaks. "Why do you keep lying to us? What are you hiding?"

For a moment, I dread being on the receiving end of Jisoo's rare outbursts, and I feel an immense guilt nagging at me for leaving Lisa to dodge the words–which may as well have turned into figurative daggers at this point—being thrown at her.

"...not in the position to say any...not my secret to tell...'m sorry."

"What's so bad that you can't even tell us about it? How long have we gone through everything together? Unless that means nothing at all to you—"

"That's not what this is, Jisoo unnie!" Lisa argues, her voice louder now as well. "How could you say that? You... This group... All of you mean the whole world to me!"

I hear Jennie speak up again, although it sounds much fainter than before, and most of her words don't completely go through the wall. "...soo unnie, stop...let's not force..."

"Well, what is it then? Is Chaeyoung secretly dating someone? Are you?" Jisoo demands, either not hearing or not listening to the younger girl.

I barely hear Lisa scoff, but her disbelief in our unnie's accusation is obvious when she sneers, "Oh, please. I wish it were something that easy to deal with."

"Lisa, I swear, if you don't—"

"Unnie, just leave her alone!" Jennie yells, cutting Jisoo off. "Please," she adds softly.

A few minutes of silence occurs before my ears pick up a sound that's even more uncommon than Jisoo being mad: Jisoo crying.

"I don't understand. I care about you guys so much. I just want us to be okay. And now we're suddenly not... I—I don't understand. Why won't you tell me what's wrong? W-Why won't Chaeyoung tell me?"

"Jisoo unnie," I mumble under my breath from where I'm sitting, the pain laced into her words echoing in my ears. "I'm so sorry."

"I'm so sorry," the youngest answers from outside, as if she'd heard me. "Sorry, unnies."

"Hey, Lisa, wait—"

I listen as hurried footsteps scurry towards my door, and even if we still aren't on speaking terms, I stand and let Lisa inside before she can raise her hand to knock.

Guilt hits me again, this time in waves, as my gaze falls to meet Lisa's reddened eyes, which are on the verge of spilling more tears than what must have already fallen down her face earlier.

"Chaeng, s-sorry you had to hear that," she manages to say, and I can see she's trying to put on a brave face, while still attempting to blink away her tears and to stop her lower lip from trembling. "I did m-my best not to tell them an-nything."

"I know you did."

I pull her into my arms, pressing my lips to her ear, thanking her for being so strong and telling her how much I regret selfishly putting her through all this turmoil, as she finally cries, burying her head on my shoulder and clutching my waist tightly.

"I'm sorry, Lisa," I repeat my words from earlier that day, placing what I hope is a comforting kiss on the top of her head, and letting her hold on to me until her tears dry.

Right then, it occurs to me that, while I'm trying so hard to protect one of my members, I may very well be but a few moments away from losing them all.

\-----

My sense of time pretty much escapes me that day; I don't know how long Lisa and I hold on to each other before her legs start to wobble from exhaustion, and I sling her arm around me, half-carrying her towards my bed.

She falls asleep as soon as her head hits the pillow. I sit beside her, carefully moving hair away from her face, my insides twisting just thinking about how I'd pretty much thrown her to the wolves earlier.

I know I have to talk to Jennie and Jisoo myself, and with this in mind, I leave the room to find them, only to blink in surprise at the darkness of the hallway, just realizing that night has already fallen.

My ominous thoughts tell me that today is almost ending, and my time is almost up.

I can't possibly leave things like this. Then again, I think bitterly, I wish I didn't have to leave at all.

I slowly walk to the kitchen, trying to calm my shaking hands as an unwelcome feeling of fear starts slithering into me. It's as if the gravity of it all has just now sunk in, and suddenly I'm not ready for whatever it is I had too hastily decided to do days and days ago.

I'm so focused on not dropping the glass I'm trying to fill with water, that I don't notice the two older girls entering until Jisoo's question pierces the silence in the room. "Chaeng, are you okay?"

"I'm fine, unnie, I was just thirsty," I say carefully, making sure that a smile is plastered on my face when I turn to her. I expect to come face-to-face with a confrontational unnie, but what I see is a gentle, albeit troubled girl instead. I don't miss the apparent puffiness below her eyes, too, a painful reminder of how much worry I've been causing her.

"Here," she says, taking the glass I'd left on the sink. If she sees the colored fingerprint stains from my still dirty hands, she doesn't say anything about it.

Throughout the the shaky, stilted conversation that happens between Jisoo and I—Jennie being a silent audience—my mind pushes me to bring up my supposed "fight" with Lisa. I open my mouth to speak, but even with the water I'd just drunk, my throat feels dry, and my courage is nowhere to be found.

All I can think about, as all three of us trudge back down the hall to say our good nights, is how hopelessly scared I am for the night to give way to the next day. And the next, and the next...

I vaguely remember Lisa telling me I'm too selfless. Does that give me a good reason to be the opposite, then, for once?

I find myself calling Jennie's name on reflex before my thoughts can catch up.

I find myself lying next to her on her bed before I can stop myself.

For a while, we talk about everything and nothing at the same time, at some points switching back and forth between Korean and English, much like we used to during our trainee years.

She seems to read my mind when she says, "It's been a while since you've slept over, hasn't it," her voice sounding wistful. "I kind of miss this."

"Sorry I've been distant lately, unnie."

"It's not your fault. It's not like we stopped sleeping over in each other's rooms on purpose. Things just happen, I guess."

"But," she continues, the beginnings of a bright smile on her lips, "You're here now, so... I'm glad."

A surge of longing washes over me at the sight of her twinkling eyes. What I'd give to see her this happy for the rest of her life...

I try to mirror her smile, allowing myself to forget about everything else but this moment. "So am I."

We stay like this for a few more seconds, neither of us seeming to want to break eye contact, except for when I unconsciously wet my lips with my tongue and see her follow it with her gaze.

"Now come on." Jennie abruptly grabs first my hand, then my arm before facing her back to me, pulling me towards her in the process. "Let me be a good pillow to you."

She interlocks her fingers with mine, effectively keeping my arm draped over her waist. Carefully, I press my front against her back, my nose close to the back of her neck. "This pillow smells good," I mutter, resting my chin on her shoulder.

"Of course it does," Jennie teases.

I hum softly in agreement. "Good night, unnie."

"Good night, Rosie. I'll protect you from nightmares tonight."

It's not until I hear Jennie's breathing even out minutes later, indicating that she's fallen asleep, when I answer in a hushed whisper.

"I wish you could protect me from this one."

Now that I'd started to verbalize my thoughts, it's as though a dam inside me has broken down, and any strength I have left evaporates as the tangled mess of emotions I've been trying for so long to push away suddenly rise up and out of my mouth.

"I wish there was another way."

"I wish I could tell you everything."

"I wish neither of us had to die."

"I wish I had more time to love you, Jennie unnie."

"I wish I—" My voice cracks painfully, and I feel annoying tears prickling on my eyes yet again, "I wish I wasn't s-so scared." I start to sob at the back of Jennie's neck, and if my words from earlier don't wake her, this surely will, but I'm too distraught to care anymore. "I'm so scared, unnie."

She turns around so quickly, I find myself wrapped in her arms not even a second later. _How long has she been awake?_ I think frantically. _How much did she hear?_

"I'm right here, Rosie. I'm right here," she says softly in my ear, still sounding faintly groggy from sleep, while she runs a soothing hand through my hair.

"You—I—I don't have much time left," I say weakly, unable to hold my tongue any longer.

"What are you talking about?"

The deep breath I let out sounds strangled and shaky, and I hold on to her more tightly, afraid she might pull away once I've finished revealing the secret that, until right then, only Lisa knows about.

"I—I can see the exact day when people are going to die, unnie," I start. Jennie stiffens, but doesn't let go as she wordlessly urges me to continue.

My throat is scratchy by the time I've told her all there is to tell about my curse and about the one death that needs to happen in three days time. I'm not sure what reaction I'm waiting for, but it's not the one that actually happens.

Jennie draws back the slightest bit, just enough for our faces to hover a few inches apart, and for the briefest moment, I can feel her breath tickling my nose. She narrows her eyes, bites her lip, and without warning, kisses me long and hard.

My lips are still for a few seconds, my head reeling from simultaneous bursts of both exhilaration and confusion. It takes Jennie cupping my cheek with her hand for me to reciprocate, and when I do, I close my eyes and press myself even closer to her, deepening the kiss.

She tastes like French vanilla mingled with salt from my tears, and the back of my mind urges me to memorize the moment by heart, in case it's the first and last time I'll ever feel her lips on mine like this.

Stopping seems to be far from what Jennie wants right then, as she teasingly runs her tongue down what must be a slightly swollen bottom lip. That's alright, it's not like I want her to stop, either.

"Rosie, I," she breathes between hasty but tender kisses filled with desperation, "I wish I... had more time... to love you... too."

I can almost see the figurative flashbulb light up in her head as she stills, then reluctantly unlatches her lips from mine. We rest our foreheads on each other, and even in a daze, I have a few more seconds to visually appreciate her long, tousled hair, her flushed cheeks and her soft pink lips, before she speaks again, pulling me back to reality.

"We have to talk to Jisoo and Lisa."

\-----

The first thing Jisoo does when she finds out is giving me a tight hug, which seems to express as much love and apology as she can muster without words.

"Thank you, Chaeyoung-ah," she says, the huskiness in her voice even more apparent right then, her sleep having been interrupted by Jennie's insistent knocking on her door less than an hour ago. "I'm sorry for being so hard on you, and Lisa too. I had no idea your secret would be something like this."

"It's okay, Jisoo unnie. You wouldn't have known," I answer, one hand patting the back of her head. 

She pulls away a few seconds later, and crosses the living room to stand in front of Lisa, who's leaning against the wall in a corner, a little farther from the sofa that Jennie and I are sitting on.

Lisa flinches and looks away as soon as Jisoo approaches, most likely still anxious from the heated conversation they had earlier in the day. I don't miss the shock on her face when the older girl pulls her into a hug as well.

"I'm sorry, Limario," she says apologetically, using one of Lisa's nicknames, along with a little aegyo, to try and lighten up the general atmosphere somewhat. "I'm sorry for everything I said this morning. Will you forgive me?"

Nothing else is said between them for a few moments, but as Lisa pulls back and stares down at Jisoo with her slightly puffy eyes, the lightest of smirks can be seen on the corners of her lips.

"I will if I don't have to wash dishes for a month."

"Deal," Jisoo agrees without hesitation, relieved that the maknae doesn't intend to hold a grudge. She takes her by the arm so they stop in front of Jennie and I, both sitting cross-legged on the floor.

"So, to make the long story short," the oldest member of the group says, her voice taking on a detached, business-like tone that seems eerily appropriate for this particular predicament, "Jennie is supposed to die three days from now. No, actually, two, since it's already past midnight. And, if we're to believe Chaeyoung's theory, she's the only one who can stop it. By taking Jennie's place."

I see a spark in Lisa's eyes, and I know she's about to say something in protest, but to my surprise, it's Jennie who speaks up first.

"I don't agree with this. If it's my time to die, then let me die. There's no way I'm letting Chaeyoung or anyone else do that for me."

I cover my face with my hands in mild exasperation. "This is actually one of the reasons why I didn't want to tell you, unnie," I say tiredly. "I knew you would say something like that."

"You were seriously going to go through with it without saying anything?" Jennie says incredulously, turning to face me. "Without stopping to think about how I might feel?"

Feeling cornered, I fail to notice myself switching to English when I answer. "I don't know, Jennie, all I know is I want to do something so I don't lose you! Just like I lost everyone else!" At that moment, my usually calm voice rises sharply, making the other three fall silent.

Jisoo is the first to snap out of it, speaking before anyone else gets a chance to. Her next words are enough to get all of our attention.

"Listen, everyone, there might actually be another way," she begins. "Do you know who likes playing games more than anyone?"

We all look at her questioningly, but it's Lisa who actually asks. "Who?"

"Fate."

\-----

Needless to say, the three of us lose any chance of sleeping that night, looking up and trying to practice all sorts of "games", as Jisoo had mentioned, and none of our eyes are shut even as the sun starts to rise.

_"It's all fictional, and just so you know, I'm not one hundred percent sure about any of this, but I've read that those who pull life's strings—the god of the underworld, fate, the grim reaper, whoever—like making wagers," Jisoo said. "So if we present them with something they'd be interested in, they might be willing to exchange it for Jennie's life."_

_"You mean, make a bet with fate?" Lisa asked._

_Jisoo nodded, then turned to me and said, "Yes. And the three of us bet each of our lives for Jennie's. That's probably the only thing that will get fate's attention."_

_"How do we let them know we're willing to make this bet?" I said, trying hard to ignore Jennie's disapproving eyes._

_"I think they already do. Just... just be ready in the next few days, whenever you're randomly asked to answer a riddle or to play a game. When the time comes, you'll know if you win or lose."_

_Seemingly triggered by the finality of our decision, Jennie looked like she was about to burst. And judging by her next words, she did just that._

_"What the hell do you all think you're doing?" she snapped, "This isn't one of the usual bets the maknaes make for fun, Jisoo unnie!"_

_"I know that," Jisoo said coolly, looking up at her defiantly from where she was sitting, appearing unusually calm despite the younger girl lashing out at her._

_If I had thought angry Jisoo was scary, it was nothing compared to this frigid, aloof Jisoo, who I'd only ever seen whenever she played one of her online computer games with her headphones on. I watched Lisa's apprehensive expression from the corner of my eye, and I realized I might not have been the only one who was starting to notice the building tension between the unnies right then._

_"These are your lives you're betting with. Three lives, three gambles, and for what? You don't even know if you'll win all three!"_

_"That's why we're doing the planning now, aren't we? We're losing time the more you try to argue with us," Jisoo answered, in the same detached tone as when she spoke earlier._

_Her nonchalant aura appeared to annoy Jennie even more. "I just said I don't want anyone dying for me! Which part of that sentence do you all not understand?!“_

_Jisoo met her eyes with a fiery gaze that matched the younger one's. "Really? That's what you think of us after all these years together? 'Anyone'? Well, you should remember that you're not just 'anyone' to us, Jennie. You're family. We're family. Try to get that through your head without forgetting it!"_

_And with that, she stood up, gave the three of us one last meaningful look, as if to tell us to remember what we'd talked about, and walked away towards her room._

_"Jennie unnie," I said, moving to lay a hand on Jennie's, but she was quick to shrink back, out of my reach._

_"I'm going out," she muttered, standing up and avoiding my eyes._

_"It's so late, unnie," Lisa said meekly from where she was sitting. "Where are you going?"_

_Jennie ignored her, turning and making her way to her room, and both Lisa and I almost jumped at the loud slam of the door as she shut it behind her._

_Stung by the cold treatment I was getting from her, I raised my knees towards me and hugged them with my arms._

_I felt a weight next to me on the couch a moment later. "Chaeng," Lisa called out gently, resting a hand on my shoulder. "Just give her some time."_

_"I would, but it's not like we have much of it left, do we," I said flatly._

_The youngest member winced, realizing her mistake. "Wrong word choice. Sorry."_

_"No, I—I'm sorry, Lisa," I stuttered an apology. "First I made you hide my secret, and now I'm making you risk your life. I shouldn't have gotten you and Jisoo unnie involved in all this."_

_"Hey, you're not_ making _me do anything," Lisa said reassuringly. "At first I was so against you trying to save Jennie unnie yourself, partly because I felt like there was nothing I could do." She paused. "Now I actually get to pitch in, and I'm not wasting it. I want her to live too. Because Jisoo unnie is right. We're family. And families look out for each other."_

_All I could do was give her a grateful smile, since right then I couldn't trust myself to speak without breaking into tears._

_She gave me a grin of her own before she grabbed at my arms. "Let's go, let's go, let's go, we have three bets to win!"_

_I shook my head, letting Lisa drag me along, fascinated at how this tall, thin stick of a human being could have so much energy in the face of possible death, and at the crack of dawn, no less._

_At the periphery of my vision, I caught a blur of black hair whizzing past, going out like she said she would, and although I never physically followed Jennie through the door, both my eyes and my mind definitely did._

The maknae's voice as she asks me another riddle, her third for the last hour, cuts through my thoughts and brings me back to the present.

"What tears and eats its own flesh and dies?"

I blink, utterly clueless, absentmindedly petting Jisoo's dog Dalgom on the head as I sit on the floor, leaning against the foot of my unnie's bed. "I'm pretty sure I've never heard that one before."

"Aaahhh, we're so bad at this," Lisa groans from her spot beside me. "I'm telling you, fate is definitely going to kick our butts with Korean riddles."

"The answer is 'candle'." Jisoo's voice floats toward us from the bed. "Isn't it?"

"Yah! If this was an exam, I'd cheat off Jisoo unnie," Lisa thinks out loud, then lets out another groan when a throw pillow bounces off the top of her head, courtesy of Jisoo.

"Pabo," our oldest member says, laying back on her bed and scrolling through her phone. "No cheating, even in your head. We have to do this right."

As morning turns into late noon, we mull over more riddles together before Lisa passes out on the bed, succumbing to her drowsiness.

Jisoo shakes her head at her sleeping form, finally putting her phone away. "Seriously, Lisa, I got a lot less sleep than you did," she grumbles, then, remembering I'm also in her room, she looks over to where I'm sitting, still at the foot of the bed. "Chaeng, you've been up all this time, haven't you? You should get some sleep, too."

I look up from my own phone and turn to her, giving a small smile. "I'm okay, Jisoo unnie, I'm..." I feel my smile falter, "I'm going to wait for Jennie unnie."

Jisoo visibly huffs. "Yah, that Jendeuk, she can be so hard-headed when she wants to be. She hasn't been answering my texts or calls."

"She used to do this sometimes, back before we debuted. She'd run away for a while when all the pressure got too hard to handle." Another smile, this time one of nostalgia that comes with reliving past events, makes its way to my lips. "Remember?"

The other girl crawls towards the end of the bed, and unceremoniously plops beside me on the floor. "I remember. But whenever she did that, she would drag me or you with her. I'm worried now because, this time, she's alone."

"You know, back then," she goes on, "All that was in her mind was 'Debut, debut, debut', and it showed in all the hard work she put into her raps and dances during evaluations. Then you came along," Jisoo looks away, choosing to fix her eyes on to the ceiling, "and she was still determined to debut, but her thoughts turned into 'Rosie, Rosie, Rosie'" (Jisoo's Korean accent makes "Rosie" cutely sound more like "Rojie") "the more you hung out."

"How do you know? Did Jennie unnie tell you?" I ask.

Jisoo shakes her head and smiles wistfully. "She didn't have to. The way she looked—looks—at you tells me everything. And I know because it's the same way I look at you. My thoughts are always filled with you, too."

The confession itself isn't unexpected, but the timing of it is, and it renders me speechless. "Jisoo unnie, I—"

"It's okay, Chaeyoung-ah," she waves hastily with a small chuckle, cutting me off. "I know you can't feel the same for me. And I'm not cruel enough to try and take you away from the person your heart already belongs to." She meets my gaze, and the affection in her eyes doesn't fail to give me a twinge of guilt.

"I want you to know one thing though. I'm putting my life at risk not only because I care about Jennie, but also partly because of you."

"What do you mean?"

"You should understand by now, that if I could, I would do anything for you. And now that I have the chance, I'm going to do my best." There are unshed tears pooling in her eyes, but she's quick to brush them away with a single swipe of her hand.

"Now, I have to ask you to leave, Chaeyoung. I got to practice for a game I need to win."


	3. D-Day

At mid-afternoon, I'm in the kitchen trying to make dinner when I hear the ding of the security-coded door, indicating that someone has arrived. Not long after, I feel a familiar set of arms wrap around me from behind. I freeze amid chopping up vegetables.

"I missed you," I hear Jennie say softly, with a rasp in her voice that tells me she'd been crying, and I can feel her warm breaths at the back of my neck.

"I was here the whole time," I answer evenly, laying the knife on the chopping board beside the spring onions I'd been cutting up. "You're the one who left."

"I know. I'm sorry."

"You should get some rest, Jennie," I say, inwardly cringing at the obvious resentment in my voice. It's not my intention to make her feel bad, but I'm finding it difficult to hide my emotions right then.

She doesn't let go like I expect her to. Instead, she tightens her grip, resting her forehead on my shoulder blade. She smells like freshly-cut grass and a little bit of liquor. (I would have to ask her about it later, when I'm not too preoccupied with how good it feels to be in her arms.) "I'm sorry, Rosie. I really am. I don't want to fight with you. Not now."

Understanding the implications behind her words, I sigh and place my hand on top of hers. "I don't want to fight with you, too, unnie."

We stay like this for a few minutes, a rare, comfortable silence surrounding us.

"Do you want help with this?" she asks after some time, standing beside me and motioning with one hand towards the chopping board. She keeps her other arm around my waist.

"If you're up to it."

She beams at me. "Of course, hubby," she says, tiptoeing and giving my lips a short but searing kiss.

"Your breath smells like alcohol," I tell her when she pulls back.

"Sorry," Jennie answers, guiltily looking away, but not saying anything to explain herself.

"So, are you my wifey for real now?" I ask coyly, playing with the tips of her hair, trying to divert the conversation to a lighter topic...

"Sure, if you want to be the girlfriend of a dead girl walking."

...And failing.

"You're not going to die, Jennie," I say firmly, turning to her and laying both of my hands on her cheeks. "Jisoo unnie, Lisa and I will make sure of it."

"I know, and I'm really, really thankful for that. It's just... I hate the fact that it's my life that's supposed to end in two days, and I can't seem to do anything but watch you guys risk all of yours for it," Jennie admits, her head down, unable to meet my gaze.

"Look at me," I tell her, my thumb grazing the shadows under one of her eyes. When she looks up, her eyes shimmering, I press a quick, gentle kiss to her forehead. "Why wouldn't we put our lives on the line for you? When we all know you would do the same if it were any of us?"

She purses her lips thoughtfully, letting the words sink in.

I watch her, and at that moment it dawns on me that I've seen Jennie so many times in the past few years sporting different looks, and wearing different shades of makeup, but the most beautiful I've ever seen her is in this moment, when all her walls are down and she's just Kim Jennie, the girl I've fallen so undeniably in love with.

These thoughts cause a swell of feelings to bubble up uncontrollably inside me, and before I know what I'm doing, I'm pulling her towards me, leaning down and kissing her with fervor. I feel her eagerly returning the kiss, pushing me back towards the kitchen counter and trapping me with her arms on either side of my waist.

"I love you," I say against her lips, "I want you to know that, unnie."

"I do. I love you, too."

"But..." I start to pull away, and Jennie leans forward, trying to chase my lips, and giving me a slightly panicked look.

"But what?"

I give her lips one last peck before grinning at her innocently, as if we didn't just kiss each other senseless less than a minute ago.

"We still have to cook dinner."

\-----

It's not until ten in the evening when Jennie and I hear any signs of life from Jisoo's room.

When we do, it's in the form of Lisa bursting out the door, anxiously searching for us. She finds us in the living room, curled up on the couch and looking up at her expectantly.

"Guys," she tells us, "Jisoo unnie's game is starting."

"How do you know?" I ask at the same time Jennie says, "Are you sure?"

"It's an online game, and one of the players on the enemy team is named 'fate0808'," Lisa explains, raising an eyebrow. "Try and convince me it's just a coincidence."

We all pile into Jisoo's room not a minute later. The ruckus we cause—mostly Lisa, who trips over something invisible after we get to the door—goes unnoticed by our oldest member, who has a pair of large, black headphones on, fully immersed in the game she was playing on the computer humming faintly on her desk.

I don't recognize what she's playing, exactly, but it looks like a first-person shooting game. Sure enough, when I peer over to see the player names on one side of the screen, "fate0808" is typed up in red, indicating that the player is on the enemy team.

Jennie, Lisa and I hover silently behind Jisoo, while the in-game sounds blare through Jisoo's headphones so loudly we can hear some of it from where we're standing.

The screen would be an absract blur of colors as Jisoo moves her mouse around, making her in-game character turn his head in this and that direction. Splatters of red would smear the sides of the screen from time to time, whenever the character gets grazed by bullets.

Unlike the loud volume of the game, Jisoo doesn't make much sound in her seat, save a few grunts whenever she gets hit, and little squeaks whenever a grenade flies in her direction.

All three of us watch with bated breath as Jisoo's character cautiously scans the area, which is unusually silent even though there are still three survivors on the enemy team, including fate0808. I look at the names on the screen again, and it looks like Jisoo is the only one on her team standing.

I gasp, startled, when bullets suddenly rain down towards her character, and Jisoo barely manages to have him dash out of the way, towards a run-down wall that comes with the game map.

She straightens up in her seat and takes a few deep breaths, then suddenly her hand tightly grips the mouse once more. First she throws what looks like a smoke bomb, instantly engulfing her waiting enemies in a thick, grey haze. Her deft fingers are a blur on the keyboard as she changes her weapon, jumps out of hiding, and holds down her left mouse pointer, releasing a continuous blast of bullets, all the while strategically moving her character back and forth to avoid any return fire.

I see the top of the screen flash with the names of the enemies she'd killed, and by the time the smoke from the bomb clears, I read fate0808's name on top of it as well.

"I did it," Jisoo says to herself, leaning back on her chair and staring at the screen in awe. "I really did it."

Jennie and Lisa start to flock towards her, the maknae ruffling Jisoo's hair playfully as she says her congratulations, the other girl simply saying a soft, almost tearful "Thank you, unnie," as she lays one hand on the older's shoulder.

A message pops up on the chat window, and I only have about a second to read it before the screen changes.

fate0808: Good job, Jisoo. Your life is yours, for now.

I feel a chill run down my spine as I stare blankly at the screen, remembering that Jisoo's in-game display name isn't even close to her real one.

\-----

It turns out that Lisa's game is not quite what she expects it to be.

After leaving Jisoo's room that night, I somehow manage to get into mine without incident—even if my eyes keep closing on their own due to being awake for almost two whole days—and fall headfirst on to the bed, utterly exhausted.

Unlike me, Lisa stays awake as night turns into another day, and Jennie, who can't seem to fall asleep herself even when it's six in the morning, joins her on the living room sofa. Both have their eyes on the TV in front of them, but none of them are actually paying attention to whatever is on.

Lisa is the first to speak, shaking Jennie out of her thoughts.

"You know, unnie, you're pretty lucky."

She raises her eyebrow at the youngest. "Really?" she says dryly. "You think I'm lucky now, of all times?"

Lisa nods seriously, her eyes still glued to the TV screen without watching anything. "Even if one of you dies tomorrow, you'll die happy knowing the person you love happens to love you the same way."

"What's so good about that if one of us ends up dead?" Jennie replies. "I don't see it."

The maknae turns to her, a wry grin on her lips. "I don't know about you, but I think living the rest of your life knowing you love someone who can't ever love you back is worse."

"Lisa..."

"I want you to live so badly, Jennie unnie, so I'm going to do my part to help," she continues. "But that's not really why I'm going against fate. I'm doing this for Chaeyoungie."

"Because you love her?"

"Everybody does."

The smile on her face slowly tightens into a thin line when she faces the TV. "Hey, unnie, have you seen this game show before?"

Jennie shakes her head. "Is that a sudoku puzzle?" she blurts, seeing familiar square grids partially filled with numbers.

Lisa's eyes widen in realization. "Oh, geez, this must be my game!"

Jennie, still skeptical, furrows her brows, watching more intently as the screen briefly flashes to a studio where a game show host announces the mechanics of the game to a lone contestant. "You think so?"

Lisa grabs a pen and paper that's lying on the coffee table, and is already hunched over, squinting closer to the screen from where she's sitting.

"Focus, focus," she mutters to herself, "This is just like making dance formations, Lisa."

She barely puts down her pen at the same time the contestant does, when a new set of blank grids appear on the screen. "Damn it, there's more than one?" she grumbles, but continues to scribble on her paper anyway, undeterred.

After what seems like an endless series of flashing sudoku grids, the screen stills. Lisa exhales the breath she'd been holding in. "Is it over?"

As if in answer, the game show host picks up the contestant's paper, shows it to the cameras, and jovial music starts to play. The sound of a studio audience cheering fills the living room.

"Congratulations, Lisa!" the host booms, eyes directly on the camera, and seemingly looking right at the maknae from behind the screen.

Jennie watches the camera pan back to the contestant, then sees the name tag pinned on to her chest.

Her name is not Lisa.

Jennie's eyes dart to the youngest, and by the astonished look on the other girl's face, she knows she sees it too.

"I guess I just won."

\-----

"Are you ready?"

"How can anyone ever be ready to face something like this?"

"Can't we just not go out tomorrow?"

"Do you think fate won't just find a way to take Jennie's life while we're all inside this house?"

"Remember my favorite photo of you, unnie? I made a sketch out of it. Do you want to see?"

"Can we see it together? When we get through tomorrow, alive?"

"Chaeyoung hasn't been made to play a game yet, has she?"

"Why do I feel like I forgot something I'm supposed to remember?"

"No matter what happens, you know I love you guys, right?"

"Are you ready?"

The four of us sit and wait in our living room until another night gives way to dawn, and then the morning. None of us get any sleep.

Finally, the first, unwelcome rays of sunrise tauntingly peek through the half-opened curtains, and we have no choice but to face the day.

"I will be."

\-----

Our manager oppa thinks we're taking a long time to prepare ourselves for the usual reasons: that none of us are really morning people, that we've probably been staying up late during our rest days from our Japan concert, that we're all just feeling too lazy to get out of bed that day.

He doesn't know that we're stalling, trying to avoid the inevitable, even just for a little while.

We all manage to hold on to each other in some way when we're out of the door of our dorm. Lisa has an arm around Jennie's shoulders, Jisoo's arm is hooked with Lisa's, and Jennie keeps a tight grip on my hand.

"Fasten your seatbelts, girls," Manager oppa instructs from the front seat after we're all seated in the van that would take us to the venue of our CF shoot that day. "We're going to have to move fast today." I can almost hear the implied "because you're making us late" laced into the tone of his otherwise neutral voice.

I occupy myself by posting a photo on Instagram with a short message about our anniversary.

"I have a confession to make," Jennie says suddenly, enough only for me, as well as Jisoo and Lisa who are in the seats right in front of me, to hear. "I might have also played a game."

Jisoo turns and asks her the question we all want to know the answer to.

"Did you win?"

"I don't... really remember," Jennie replies, even now still trying to force herself to recall the memory. "I didn't say anything at first because I thought it was just a dream."

"Chae?" Lisa calls. "Did the dates on Jennie unnie's head change?"

The dates. I wanted to smack myself for forgetting to do something that should've been second nature to me.

I've been so caught up in the events of the past few days, and I've been so used to seeing the same numbers every single day since I met Jennie, that I hadn't bothered looking up to see if anything was different.

When I turn to Jennie, my gaze skimming beyond her eyes and on to the top of her head, I don't even have the time to express my surprise, as the new numbers on Jennie's head are the last thing I see before I feel a strong impact slam against our van, causing me to fall sideways, my head colliding with something hard, and my vision abruptly fading to black.

\-----

I wake up to a voice I haven't heard since I was in elementary school.

"Wosie? Are you okay?"

I shoot up, feeling short blades of grass tickling my lower body. My eyes slowly adjust to the bright sunlight bathing the playground with an inviting atmosphere.

Finally, when I turn to the source of the voice that woke me, I see a boy with dirty-blonde hair crouching on my side, and when I recognize who it is, I can't resist the urge to pull him into my arms.

"Elliot!"

He lets out a small laugh, his little body hugging me back. "I missed you," he says.

"Me too."

He pulls away from my embrace, and looks at me in awe. "You're so big now."

"And you're still as cute as ever," I answer with a smile, reaching out to ruffle my childhood friend's hair. We sit together on the patch of grass I'd been lying on, my eyes drifting to other kids playing on the swings, on seesaws, on little merry-go-rounds, and on monkey bars, oblivious to our presence.

I hold my tongue and resist the urge to ask where I am. At the moment, I don't really want to know.

But Elliot seems to sense my thoughts and asks me if I know why I'm here. I shake my head.

"Fate wants to play, Wosie," he says slowly, his eyes on the ground, picking at a patch of grass nearby. "Your friends already won their games, now it's your turn."

"W-Why did Jennie have to play a game, too?"

"Because she asked for it," he replies, pointing a finger towards a clearing some distance away. "Look."

When I turn to the direction he's pointing at, I see a Jennie of two days ago on the ground, leaning on a large tree that seems to envelop the area around her in an embrace. An empty soju bottle lies discarded just beyond her reach.

I'm up on my feet before I know it, carrying Elliot with me and walking closer. My heart clenches at the sight of the other girl weeping uncontrollably, her head leaning back and chin pointing upwards.

"Leave them alone," she cries, chest heaving with difficulty. "It's... me you want... isn't it?"

She doesn't say anything else for a few minutes, but as her sobs slowly die down, she rubs her eyes with the heels of her palms and tries to stand up on shaky legs.

"Why don't you let me play?" she dares, eyes fixed towards the sky. "If you win, you can kill me whenever you want, even if Jisoo, Lisa and Chaeyoung win their games. But if I win, you don't touch any of them, no matter how many times they lose."

She stumbles a little at first, but manages to walk more steadily after digging for a mask in her pocket and wearing it over her face. I fall into step beside the girl, an invisible barrier between us blocking my hand when I try to reach for her.

"Wow, look, Wosie," Elliot exclaims, still in my arms, waving an excited hand straight ahead. "Dogs!"

Sure enough, there's a makeshift obstacle course for dogs a little ways in front of us. Before Jennie (and I) can take another step, a little brown puppy dashes towards her and stops to sniff at her sneakers.

"Hey there," she stoops down and coos at the furry animal, scratching lightly behind its left ear. "You know, you look a lot like my dog, Kuma."

We both look up as we hear a set of running footsteps approaching. A young woman with short black hair, who looks like she's in her late 20's, stops in front of Jennie and bows repeatedly.

"Thank you so much! I thought I lost him," she says gratefully. Turning her attention to the Pomeranian pup, she speaks with a little sternness in her tone. "Unmyeong, please don't run off next time."

Jennie watches as the woman tries to pick up Unmyeong, but the dog evades her with its nimble feet, hiding behind its newfound friend.

"Unmyeong," Jennie calls out authoritatively, and the little dog immediately relaxes, and circles back so it's animatedly wagging its tail in front of her.

The woman chuckles. "He seems to like you a lot, miss." As an afterthought, she motions towards the obstacle course. "We're holding a fundraiser for our local dog shelter. Unmyeong is one of the abandoned dogs we look after. He's supposed to be joining our main event, but the one who usually handles him is sick."

"Oh no, that's too bad," Jennie answers, her eyes still on the puppy, who now does little jumps, trying to get more of her attention. "Sit, Unmyeong," she says, stooping down herself. The dog follows suit, and Jennie rewards its obedience by rubbing its side and, when it rolls over, the bare white skin covering its stomach.

"Do you know anything about training dogs, miss?"

She nods slightly. "Only a little bit. I taught my dog Kuma some basic tricks like rolling over and fetching."

"Umm, this might be too much to ask," the woman says, "but maybe you'd like to be Unmyeong's handler for just one game?"

The mention of the word "game" seems to make the gears turn in Jennie's half-sober head. "Just one?"

"Just one."

"O-Okay then."

The woman happily hands her a leash, which Jennie hooks on to Unmyeong's collar.

"You know, it looks like you were both fated to meet today."

The way she says it makes Jennie remember that "Unmyeong" in Korean actually means "fate". (It takes me a few seconds longer to come to the same realization because of my half-baked fluency in Korean.) She tightens her grip on the leash and takes determined steps towards the dog park up ahead.

"This must be the game she was talking about," I mumble to myself. I put Elliot down, and he reaches for my hand. "Let's follow her."

There's a fair number of people crowding around the area, but Elliot and I make it to the front somehow and get a full view of the obstacle course.

The emcee announces that it's a time attack race, so each dog would get a turn at completing all the challenges. The winner would be the dog that completes the course in the shortest amount of time.

I recall Jisoo going through a similar series of challenges with a trained dog during Blackpink House, but I don't know if Jennie had ever tried this before.

Then, a whistle blows, signalling the start of the event. Before I know it, it's Unmyeong and Jennie's turn.

"Hey, Wosie," Elliot speaks, keeping his eyes on the race, "Do you love her?"

The question makes me feel a twisting, pleasurable pain in my chest, and I don't even have to think about my answer. "I do. So much."

"So much you were going to die for her?"

I look on as Jennie expertly guides Unmyeong through a curved tunnel, gives him a dog treat and a quick pat on the head, then runs towards the hurdles, giving the same reward as soon as the skilled dog successfully jumps over all the bars.

"Yes."

"Fate says you can still do that," the child says without any change in tone, as if he was telling me about his favorite toy and nothing else. "You can still die for her." 

"But she—she's alive now, isn't she?" I question, not able to turn away from the smile in Jennie's eyes as she and Unmyeong breeze through the course like professionals.

"If you give fate your life, she will live for sure. They promise."

For a moment it seems that everything around me is moving in slow motion as the words sink themselves into my mind. _Jennie will live for sure if I give my life up right now. I want her to live. I want her to have more days where she gets to have pure happiness within her reach, instead of just looking at it longingly from afar. I want her to..._

All of a sudden I see flashes of Jisoo and Lisa in my mind, both of them giving their all to win the games fate had challenged them with, reminding me that I'm not the only one who wants Jennie alive.

Just then, a whistle is blown, and Unmyeong successfully completes the course in record time.

Elliot looks at me expectantly, waiting for my answer to fate's proposal.

"Please let fate know I owe them one game," I tell him, thinking fast. "I might have something they want."

"Really? What is it?"

"My curse." I answer decisively. "If I win, fate can take away my ability to see death dates. If I lose," I pause, watching as Jennie and Unmyeong are applauded by the small group of people gathered, "Fate can take away my life."

Jennie gives a small bow to the audience and then turns to the woman she was talking to earlier, handing Unmyeong and its leash back to her. A few words are exchanged, Jennie shaking her head when she's asked for her name, and the girl is walking away once again, her eyelids drooping dangerously from time to time, as the adrenaline from the contest wears off of her system, and as the effects of the alcohol she drank earlier are finally kicking in.

Elliot and I follow her to a taxi she's barely able to hail with one heavy hand. We make it inside just as she closes the door, mumbles the location of our dorm to the driver, and falls asleep on the backseat.

I'm right next to her, but all I can do is hover a hand near her face, and watch the small, adorable crinkle of her nose and the ever present knitting together of her eyebrows, as if the very act of sleeping takes the utmost amount of concentration.

The drive is silent for all of five minutes, until the child beside me holds my hand, catching my attention.

"What puts on clothes in hot summer and takes them off in cold winter?"

My eyes stray past Elliot's face and on to the greenery that seems to blow past as the car moves. For some reason, my thoughts momentarily drift to a V live Jisoo and I had done about a year ago, where she had been adamant that I love all trees rather than just the cherry blossom ones.

In the future, I would remember to thank Jisoo for that conversation.

"A tree," I reply, with no trace of uncertainty in my voice. "A tree's clothes are leaves. It has a lot of them in summer but none during winter."

Elliot squeezes my hand affectionately, a warm smile stretching his lips. "Fate accepts your conditions," he tells me, in a mature tone that seems to belong to a whole different person. "You win."

Just then, the taxi comes to a stop in front of our complex, and the driver reaches back to gently wake Jennie. Once she's up, she pays for the fare with bleary eyes and opens the door with unsteady hands.

"You better go now, Wosie." For some reason, it feels like I'm being pulled by an unknown force towards the front entrance of the building, and the world around me, starting with my childhood friend's face, fades away little by little every passing second.

I finally give in to the pull, letting go of Elliot and following Jennie's back as we both make our way inside.

\-----

It's not Elliot's hand holding mine the next time I wake up.

There's a dull ache on the side of my bandaged head, and a heaviness throughout my entire body that feels like an anvil is pressing down on me, but the hand locked with mine, belonging to the girl sitting beside the bed, head laying on the mattress, on top of a folded arm, makes me shove all other thoughts to the back of my mind.

 _She's really here._ As I look around what looks like a hospital room, I see two other figures lying together on a couch on the other side, and I feel a wave of relief wash over me. _They're all here._

 _No,_ I correct myself, _We're all here._

I want to call out to the three of them, let them know that it's finally over, but right then, my body only has enough energy to give Jennie's hand a small squeeze.

This seems to be enough to wake her, as she jumps a little at the sudden sensation, abruptly sitting upright.

"Rosie!"

"Hi," I test my voice, which sounds a little raspy from disuse. The startled expression on Jennie's face slowly fades, replaced by the brightest of smiles, which light up even her disappearing eyes.

"Hi," she answers quietly, reaching out for my cheek and running her thumb along it. "How are you?"

"I'm..."

Just then, I remember my wager with fate. Slowly, my gaze turns upwards, searching for the familiar red writing on top of Jennie's head.

 _Nothing_ , I think. _There's nothing._

My eyes quickly dart back towards Jisoo and Lisa, and there are no numbers on top of their heads, either.

"J-Jennie unnie, I'm—" I struggle to say, afraid that if I say what I'm going to say out loud, fate might change their minds.

"You're what?"

I meet Jennie's gaze, which has an edge of both concern and curiosity in it.

"The curse, it's gone. I'm... free."

\-----

As soon as Manager oppa finds out I'm awake, he comes to my room and bows, apologizing profusely. He thinks that, if he hadn't pressured the driver of the van to drive faster in an effort to be on time for our group's schedule, the accident would never have happened.

If only he knew that something would have happened anyway, regardless of his actions that day.

When Jennie wakes Jisoo and then Lisa, she comes back to sit on the side of the bed, while the two others occupy seats on the other side, telling me about the accident that ended up bringing us to the hospital.

Apparently, a car had grazed the back of the van, on the side I was sitting, before colliding with another vehicle. The impact had then thrown me sideways. The other three who were sitting on the seats in front, along with the driver and Manager oppa, got away with a few bruises. On the other hand, I was unconscious for almost two whole days.

"You had to get stitches for your head," Jisoo says. So that explains the bandage.

"Like a battle scar," Lisa chimes in, evidently trying to see the good in the situation.

"I think everything Chaeyoung went through all these years, and the past few days, has been a real battle," Jennie thinks out loud.

"It's been one for all of us," I say solemnly. "I'm just glad we all went through it together."

"We're the best when it's the four of us, right?"

I feel three hands reaching for both of mine. "Always."

\-----

My mom visits me later that day to check up on me, making sure I'm alright and being taken care of. My sister Alice starts a video call with me not long after.

Somehow the three other Blackpink members, together with my mother, manage to fit all of us into the phone camera's field of vision, Lisa holding up the phone the whole time, her enthusiasm never running out as we all converse with Alice and my dad, who's beside her.

We eventually end the call when a nurse comes in to check my bandages and vital signs, as well as inject pain medication for my head in my IV.

It's almost nightfall when my mom says goodbye, choosing to go home to give way to Jisoo, Lisa and Jennie. (The hospital only allows three people to stay in the room after visiting hours.) Before she leaves, she asks them to take care of me, and I'm not sure if the lingering, meaningful look she gives Jennie is just my mind playing tricks.

Jennie and I find ourselves alone when, a few moments later, Jisoo and Lisa volunteer to go out and buy dinner—although earlier it appeared that only Lisa volunteered, then dragged a grumbling but easily compliant Jisoo along with her.

The silence between us is nothing like the suffocating one I'd experienced on the breakfast table less than a week ago. It's peaceful, comfortable, and as we meet each other's gaze, warm smiles both curling on the corners of our lips, I immediately decide that it's one of the things I love about being with Jennie.

I make some space on the hospital bed and pat it, shyly motioning for her to come lie next to me. I instantly feel safe and warm the moment she lays her head on top of my shoulder.

"You know," Jennie says softly, looking up at me with those cat-like eyes, "I totally owe you a lot right now."

I raise my eyebrows at her, slightly puzzled. "For what?"

A telltale smirk replaces the smile that's been on her lips these past few minutes. "Besides saving my life, you've given us some free time because we've postponed our schedules till your injury fully heals."

"Is that supposed to be a good thing, though, unnie?"

"It is for when I ask you out on a proper date, Rosie," Jennie says with an adorable pout. "Don't be so pessimistic. It doesn't suit you."

I laugh at the cute face she's making, then lean down and kiss her protruding lower lip. "Okay, Jennie. I'll be waiting, then." 

"You won't have to wait long," she promises, raising a hand to tuck some of my pink hair behind one ear. "I'm not going to waste all the extra time you guys have given me."

My eyes flicker towards her mouth. "Neither am I."

Our lips meet in gentle, loving caresses, slowly mapping out each other's taste and feel and storing these away in our minds so we never forget. This is the exact opposite of our first kiss, which was fiery, desperate and filled with urgency lest it be our last. 

Right then, there is no trace of fear in our kisses, because we know we have more time to love each other now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not sure if anyone reads these notes, but if you happen to be reading this, hey there.
> 
> So I think one thing I can be proud of about this alternate ending is that it's able to draw a parallel with the original version. The original shows Chaeyoung sacrificing herself to save Jennie without involving anyone else, and while it highlights her selflessness, it also results in irreparable damage to the other members. This ending, on the other hand hand, highlights Blackpink's teamwork because all of them were able to help save Jennie's life.
> 
> With regards to the games fate made them play, I hope they were alright and not too badly written. The game Jisoo played is... I'm not actually sure, but since I'm a little bit of an old-school kind of gamer, I was imagining a mix of Counterstrike and Halo 2 when I was writing about her game. lol
> 
> I'm not sure what else to say, but I hope you enjoyed this. If you feel I missed something, or have a random question, hit me up in the comments or something. In the meantime, stream Kiss and Make Up, support any of the members' solo and group projects, and keep being healthy, everyone.


End file.
